Fic: Camping (Tony/Pepper)
Title: Camping
Fandom: Iron Man
Prompt: Pepperony 200, #196. Camping
Rating: G
Word Count: 801
Character(s)/Pairing: Tony/Pepper
Summary: Pre-IM2, Tony and Pepper pull an all-nighter. Warning: fluff ahead...
A/N: I do not claim to live in Nebraska, but Tony’s got a jet, and I'm assuming it gets pretty darned cold there in the winter. Sort of like it’s getting outside my place right now…
Shivering among the teenagers and very unhappy parents sitting outside the Best Buy at two in the morning, most with sleeping bags, tents, and other camping paraphernalia, are one grown man and grown woman, perched on canvas camp chairs next to a small portable heater.
Well. They were next to it, not that it was doing anyone very much good. Now it’s resting on the man’s lap as his un-gloved fingers writhe around its insides, in a (probably futile) attempt to coax a bit more warmth from its wire coil. Or whatever actually creates the heat inside it. All Pepper knows is that it’s not working.
“Tony, you have the money to buy the entire chain of Best Buy stores. Is this really necessary?”
“It’s not about the money, Potts.” Having concluded that with the tools available and the poor construction of the heating device, powering it via his arc reactor is not a viable plan, Tony sets the heater back down on the sidewalk with a small sigh. He leans back in his chair, replacing his gloves and rubbing his hands together. “It’s about the experience. Look up at the sky. How often do you see stars like that in Malibu?”
Pepper does glance up, albeit reluctantly. It is impressive, she’ll admit. But she lowers her head quickly. “If I stay looking up that way, I’m not certain my neck won’t freeze in place. At the very least, we could have done this in July, not February, Tony.” Seeing as they’re in the middle of rural Nebraska, not far from where she herself had grown up (well, not relatively far, in terms of Tony Stark and distances traveled), its pretty damned cold. But no matter how many times she’s brought it up, it doesn’t seem to matter. No one here so much as turns a head, though; everyone’s too preoccupied with avoiding hypothermia to recognize a disguised, glasses-wearing and bundled-up billionaire-turned-superhero.
Who so desperately wants to get his hands on the newest Call of Duty video game. Or so he says. She’s almost entirely sure that this is all just a reason, somehow, to pull one over on her, but he hasn’t uttered a single come-on since they’d arrived.
“Sure you don’t want me to warm you up, Pep?” This is accompanied by blatantly-wiggling brows and a broad, lunatic-esque grin, and she can’t help but laugh quietly.
“Just this once, Mr. Stark, I’m tempted to take you up on it.” His eyes widen to near the size of dinner plates, and she can’t decide if it’s real or an act.
“Be still my heart, Potts, I think you’ve broken me…” One gloved hand is planted at his chest, suddenly, just over where his reactor is hidden, beneath the thick layer of a black parka, and she rolls her eyes.
“And… the temptation has vanished.”
He barks a laugh, then reaches into his pocket, holding out two small plastic packets to her; she pulls her mittened hands from her coat pockets and blinks down at them. “Hand warmers?”
“They heat up in your gloves. Used to use ‘em all the time.” He doesn’t clarify when, and she doesn’t ask, lifting her gaze to peer over at him from under her beanie. He shrugs. “They only had the one set left in the store, so… you know, I thought I should wait until it got coldest. Since you were nice enough to… you know. Sit out here with me, all night.” Pause. “What?”
Pepper can’t stop the staring, not for a long minute, unable to respond to what he’d said, but finally she shakes her head quickly, smiling to herself and looking down at the packets, and then tearing them open. She puts one into one glove… and then reaches over, handing him the other. He frowns at her, and she shrugs. “You’ll need your fingers un-frostbitten to use the console in the morning, right?”
His grin lights up his face, white teeth flashing in the dim light, and she smiles back, leaning back in her chair to join him and peering upward at the stars again. “Especially since I intend to kick your ass at it.”
Another sharp laugh. “Brave words, Potts. Brave words.”
“Bring it on, Stark.” At which point both the Personal Assistant and the Superhero fall into a rare but oddly comfortable silence, both contemplating the challenge now set before them come the dawn.
Fandom: Iron Man
Prompt: Pepperony 200, #196. Camping
Rating: G
Word Count: 801
Character(s)/Pairing: Tony/Pepper
Summary: Pre-IM2, Tony and Pepper pull an all-nighter. Warning: fluff ahead...
A/N: I do not claim to live in Nebraska, but Tony’s got a jet, and I'm assuming it gets pretty darned cold there in the winter. Sort of like it’s getting outside my place right now…
Shivering among the teenagers and very unhappy parents sitting outside the Best Buy at two in the morning, most with sleeping bags, tents, and other camping paraphernalia, are one grown man and grown woman, perched on canvas camp chairs next to a small portable heater.
Well. They were next to it, not that it was doing anyone very much good. Now it’s resting on the man’s lap as his un-gloved fingers writhe around its insides, in a (probably futile) attempt to coax a bit more warmth from its wire coil. Or whatever actually creates the heat inside it. All Pepper knows is that it’s not working.
“Tony, you have the money to buy the entire chain of Best Buy stores. Is this really necessary?”
“It’s not about the money, Potts.” Having concluded that with the tools available and the poor construction of the heating device, powering it via his arc reactor is not a viable plan, Tony sets the heater back down on the sidewalk with a small sigh. He leans back in his chair, replacing his gloves and rubbing his hands together. “It’s about the experience. Look up at the sky. How often do you see stars like that in Malibu?”
Pepper does glance up, albeit reluctantly. It is impressive, she’ll admit. But she lowers her head quickly. “If I stay looking up that way, I’m not certain my neck won’t freeze in place. At the very least, we could have done this in July, not February, Tony.” Seeing as they’re in the middle of rural Nebraska, not far from where she herself had grown up (well, not relatively far, in terms of Tony Stark and distances traveled), its pretty damned cold. But no matter how many times she’s brought it up, it doesn’t seem to matter. No one here so much as turns a head, though; everyone’s too preoccupied with avoiding hypothermia to recognize a disguised, glasses-wearing and bundled-up billionaire-turned-superhero.
Who so desperately wants to get his hands on the newest Call of Duty video game. Or so he says. She’s almost entirely sure that this is all just a reason, somehow, to pull one over on her, but he hasn’t uttered a single come-on since they’d arrived.
“Sure you don’t want me to warm you up, Pep?” This is accompanied by blatantly-wiggling brows and a broad, lunatic-esque grin, and she can’t help but laugh quietly.
“Just this once, Mr. Stark, I’m tempted to take you up on it.” His eyes widen to near the size of dinner plates, and she can’t decide if it’s real or an act.
“Be still my heart, Potts, I think you’ve broken me…” One gloved hand is planted at his chest, suddenly, just over where his reactor is hidden, beneath the thick layer of a black parka, and she rolls her eyes.
“And… the temptation has vanished.”
He barks a laugh, then reaches into his pocket, holding out two small plastic packets to her; she pulls her mittened hands from her coat pockets and blinks down at them. “Hand warmers?”
“They heat up in your gloves. Used to use ‘em all the time.” He doesn’t clarify when, and she doesn’t ask, lifting her gaze to peer over at him from under her beanie. He shrugs. “They only had the one set left in the store, so… you know, I thought I should wait until it got coldest. Since you were nice enough to… you know. Sit out here with me, all night.” Pause. “What?”
Pepper can’t stop the staring, not for a long minute, unable to respond to what he’d said, but finally she shakes her head quickly, smiling to herself and looking down at the packets, and then tearing them open. She puts one into one glove… and then reaches over, handing him the other. He frowns at her, and she shrugs. “You’ll need your fingers un-frostbitten to use the console in the morning, right?”
His grin lights up his face, white teeth flashing in the dim light, and she smiles back, leaning back in her chair to join him and peering upward at the stars again. “Especially since I intend to kick your ass at it.”
Another sharp laugh. “Brave words, Potts. Brave words.”
“Bring it on, Stark.” At which point both the Personal Assistant and the Superhero fall into a rare but oddly comfortable silence, both contemplating the challenge now set before them come the dawn.